


London Calling

by dracsmith



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Episode Related, Fix-It, Gen, Minor Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracsmith/pseuds/dracsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened on the prisoner transport ship after Blake and his people left?</p>
            </blockquote>





	London Calling

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the print fanzine Forgotten Seven in 1991.

Metal hatches slammed down and the compartment filled rapidly with sticky white sealant. Nova scrabbled for handholds on the pipes and wiring, desperately hoisting himself up to keep his face free of the foam. It seemed as though he would succeed in keeping out of the goo when he realized that the air in the sealed compartment was getting very thin. 

***

"Sir," said Artix, alarmed, "there's some trouble with the hull sealant on one of the panels."

"What is it, Artix?" asked Subcommander Raiker, leaning over to examine the young navigator's console.

"The space is filling up all right, but it's not using nearly enough sealant. It's as if there was a large object in there, about the size of a man. . . ." his voice trailed off.

"Scan for life signs, Mr. Artix," ordered Leylan, the middle-aged captain.

"Yes, sir, it's confirmed. There is a man in there."

Raiker snapped on the intercom. "Dainer, report. Are all guards accounted for?"

There was a pause and then a voice replied, "Yes, Subcommander."

Raiker switched off the channel. "It's just a prisoner, then."

Artix frowned at the scanner. "Life signs fading rapidly." He turned to the captain. "I don't suppose there's any way to get him out."

"Not without opening every door on this ship," Leylan said, shaking his head. "Poor devil. What a horrible death."

"My heart bleeds for him," sneered Raiker.

***

Avon prodded a control with his laser probe. There was no time to be careful. "Open all doors," he muttered to himself. It would probably open inner emergency hatches as well, but with any luck the hull was reasonably well repaired by now.

***

Nova felt himself blacking out as the oxygen in the air was depleted. Suddenly the hatches opened and he fell forward into the next section of the accessway. Gasping for air he clutched at the nearest panel, prying it open with fumbling fingers. It opened onto a darkened storeroom. He crawled through the opening and collapsed onto the floor.

***

The _London_ blasted off from Cygnus Alpha, leaving Gan, Vila, Arko and the rest in the holding pen. "Release prisoners," ordered Leylan, and Artix complied. The prisoners were released by remote control onto the surface of the planet.

Leylan looked at Artix and sighed. "I'm afraid this fiasco doesn't bode well for your future career, young man," he said sympathetically. "But my report will show that you comported yourself well during the entire affair."

"Thank you, sir" said Artix. "Though, if I may speak frankly, sir - " he paused, and Leylan nodded - "if Subcommander Raiker was typical of a successful officer, I'm not sure that I'm so eager to become one."

"I'll agree with you on that one, Mr. Artix," Leylan said. "Though I shouldn't be saying such things. Not that it makes much difference now."

Artix looked up. "Sir? What will they do to you when we get back?"

"What _could_ they do to the man who gave Roj Blake the fastest ship in the known galaxy?" Leylan asked bitterly. "Put him in charge of the worst run available?" He waved an arm around the control room. "This _is_ the worst run available."

"But why, sir?" protested Artix. "I mean, what are you doing here _now_? You're one of the most honest men I've ever served under!"

"That, Mr. Artix, is exactly why I'm here now. You know that this was Raiker's last tour on the prison run and he was on his way up and out? Ever wonder how he moved up so fast? He was blackmailing one of the section coordinators at Space Command."

Artix whistled in surprise. "Blackmailers don't usually live long."

"They do when they have a highly-placed uncle in Security. Raiker had dirt, and he had connections, Mr. Artix. That's the way to succeed in the Federation."

"Not like us," the young man said ruefully. He tossed aside the miniature listening device from which he had been studying his command lessons earlier. "So much for Counter-Espionage Strategy and Tactics 101." He was silent for a moment, hesitated, then spoke. "I say - do we really _have_ to go back?"

Leylan stared at him. "Just what exactly are you suggesting?"

"Well, um," Artix squirmed under his superior's scrutiny. "We have a ship, and plenty of food and fuel. We could head out to a neutral planet, sell the _London_ for scrap metal - "

"And find honest jobs," concluded Leylan wryly. "And then get turned in by our own guards."

"Oh," Artix's face fell. 

Leylan thought for a moment. "If only we had some pretext on which to send them back to Cygnus Alpha."

There was a scuffling sound outside and a loud knock on the door. "Come in," said Leylan. Three guards stood there, two of them supporting a barely-conscious prisoner between them. The third stood stiffly at attention. It was Dainer, the dark-bearded man who had gunned down the seventh prisoner to die in the riot.

"Look what we found cowering in Storeroom B," he said gleefully. "Shall we kill him?"

Artix jumped and looked at Leylan. "No, I have a better idea," the Captain said, rubbing his hands together. "Come in, come in. Put _that_ over there." He gestured the prisoner to a chair. The guards dumped him in it and stood one on either side. Leylan nodded approval and turned back to Dainer. "I've been looking for an excuse to send a top squad down to Cygnus Alpha. I'm afraid it was a mistake to let those rebellious prisoners go down there alive. Who knows what ideas they might put into the others' heads? Now, I don't have clearance to land again but we could send down a shuttle. It would be convenient if, in the course of returning an errant prisoner, your men were accidentally forced to dispose of the rebels."

Dainer grinned. "I like the way you think, sir. I'll assemble a crack team."

Leylan nodded. "I'll want you to take all the men who are. . . shall we say, unencumbered by conscience?" Dainer's grin grew even broader. "Of course," said Leylan, as an afterthought, "there might not be room for the prisoner in the shuttle."

"He might meet with an accident on the way," said Dainer.

"I like the way you think, Dainer," said Leylan. "In fact, why don't you leave him with me, and put whatever you want in your report? Some accidents don't leave bodies."

"Understood, sir."

"Now go assemble that team. Contact me when you're ready."

"Where shall we put the prisoner, sir?"

"As I said," said Leylan testily, "leave him with me!"

"Yes, sir," said Dainer. He saluted, collected his guards, and left.

 

As soon as the door had shut behind Dainer and his men, Leylan went to the prisoner's side. "Get him a glass of water, Artix," he snapped. "You look like hell, man. What happened to you?"

"I got caught in the service tunnel when the hull ruptured," the prisoner gasped. "I thought I was dead for sure, when all of a sudden the hatches opened." Leylan looked thoughtful for a moment, remembering, and nodded. The young man continued. "I think I remember climbing into a storeroom, but that's all." Artix returned with the water and Leylan held it for the prisoner, who gulped it gratefully. "Thank you, sir." He sat up a little straighter and looked around. "What happens to me now?"

"Well, Mr. - what's your name?"

"Nova, sir."

"Well, Mr. Nova, a lot has happened since you got stuck in that accessway. Mr. Artix, why don't you fill him in while I program us a course back to Cygnus Alpha?" The prisoner flinched and Leylan added gently, "Don't worry. We're not stranding _you_ there."

While Leylan reprogrammed the navigation computer, Artix told Nova about the prisoners' revolt, the massacre by Raiker, the appearance of the alien spacecraft, the prisoners' escape onto the craft, Raiker's death, and the eventual deposit of the remaining prisoners on Cynus Alpha. Leylan returned just as he was finishing. "I feel sorry for the prisoners when we leave Dainer's team down there, sir," said Artix.

"Well, Mr. Artix, how are you at sabotage?"

Artix held up the lesson-on-a-stick to which he had been listening earlier. "Just had a top Federation course on it, sir."

"Go down and pretend to check over the shuttle those men will be using. I want them to have just enough fuel to land - and I want the gauge to read full. And I want the guidance system to land them as far from the prison settlement as possible - and I want it to tell them they're landing right on top of it."

"As good as done, sir," said Artix with a grin and left. 

Leylan poured two cups of coffee and punched up some sandwiches on the food processor, which Nova accepted gratefully. They munched for a while in companionable silence, until Nova got up the courage to ask a question. "Will there be any guards left on the ship, sir?" 

"Only the sympathetic ones," answered Leylan. "Soon as Dainer's team has left I'll set you up in some decent quarters."

The intercom beeped. "Dainer here, sir." 

"Yes, go ahead."

"I have my team assembled. I'm taking all but four of the survivors - Danno, Gart, Polan and Yakin. The rest are with me." Leylan grinned and gave a thumbs-up sign to Nova. The four named were decent men.

"Has Artix cleared the shuttle for take-off?"

"Yes, sir, he has. He's on his way back to the control room now."

"Excellent," said Leylan. "Prepare for take-off on my signal."

"Yes, sir."

Leylan waited until Artix had returned to the control room. "Is the shuttle 'fixed,' Mr. Artix?"

Artix winked. "To your exact specifications, Captain."

"Prepare shuttle bay for take-off." Artix sat down and pushed a series of buttons on his console.

Leylan touched the intercom. "Dainer, you are cleared to leave as soon as the bay doors open. Good luck."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," came Dainer's filtered voice. Artix threw a final switch to release the shuttle bay doors. As the shuttle cleared the ship, the men in the control room breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are they really all gone, Mr. Artix?" asked Leylan.

Artix checked his sensors. "Yes, sir. Sensors show only seven life forms on board the _London_."

"Well, then, I suppose it's time we made a break for it," said Leylan briskly. But his hand hesitated over the control computer.

"Sir?" said Nova. "I have an idea that might keep the Federation from following us. It was something Jenna Stannis said, about the condition this ship was in. . . ." He spoke, and as Leylan listened he began to smile. Artix made some technical suggestions, and at length they settled on a course of action.

Leylan opened a channel. "This is civilian freighter _London_.leaving Cygnus Alpha." As he spoke, Artix began ripping carefully selected wires from the communications console. Leylan's words became gradually peppered with static. "We have sustained serious damage from shock waves apparently emanating from the alien space battle. Many casualties, though we managed to put some men down on Cygnus Alpha in a shuttle." Artix turned up the in-room speakers briefly, creating a massive squeal of feedback when Leylan spoke next. "We. . . " Leylan glared at Artix, who turned the speakers back down. "We are unable to hold course and have begun to drift." Artix began turning down the outgoing volume. "Our hull is punctured in several places and we fear that the engines and computers have suffered irreparable damage."

A Federation voice came through suddenly. " _London_ , your signal is breaking up. _London_ , are you able to hear us?"

"Yes, sir," Leylan responded, "but I fear our engines will go critical at any moment, destroying this ship and--" Artix waved him back from the console and pulled out one last connection. There was a very satisfying crackling sound and, as Artix jumped back, a small explosion.

***

Back at headquarters, the communications officer turned to his superior. "I'm afraid we've lost the _London_ , sir. Shall I send a salvage & rescue ship?"

"If their engines went critical," the supervisor said glumly, "there won't be anything left to salvage or rescue. See if you can pinpoint its last known location and launch a remote radiation-warning buoy to keep other ships away."

"Yes, sir," said the communications officer.

***

"Set course for the nearest neutral planet, Mr. Artix," said Leylan, returning cautiously to his own chair. "Then I'd like this fixed." He tapped the blackened jumble that had once been the communications station. A spark jumped to his finger and he snatched his hand back.

"Are you going to sell the _London_.for scrap and settle down like you said?" asked Nova suddenly.

"Do you have an alternative to suggest?" asked the captain.

Artix swiveled in his chair. "We might join the rebellion, sir!"

"Yes!" said Nova, his eyes shining.

Leylan looked from one eager young face to the other. "In this bucket of bolts?"

"This bucket of bolts can go _anywhere_ ," declared Nova. "That flashy thing Blake's got stands out like a sore thumb. But nobody's going to question a cruddy old freighter - no offense, sir," he added quickly.

"Don't worry about it," sighed Leylan. "Boy's got a point there. Let's call in the others and see who wants to join."

Artix grinned. "My guess is they all will, sir."

Nova grinned too. "Up with the rebellion! Long live Leylan's Seven!"

Leylan grimaced. "Indeed."


End file.
